


Chicke n Tenders

by orphan_account



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: this was the actual precursor to "moments like this are borne from pain" and i wanted to go ahead and save it somewhere other than tumblr and it's short and not really, serious enough to pretend it's a real FIC SO ANYWAY





	

Glanni Glæpur was not sure how his life had come to this. In fact, he wasn’t sure of what was even going on, entirely.

All he knew is that Íþróttaálfurinn was currently gently bandaging the cuts on his hands he’d gotten from jumping through a glass window (not his smartest idea) in the close confines of his hot air balloon. His hands were incredibly calloused- probably from all the walking around he did on them- but they were gentle as they removed glass shards from his palm. Íþróttaálfurinn shushed him quietly when he’d winced, holding his wrist in a firm but not tight grip, just to keep his hand in place.

It was awkward to say the least. His greatest enemy was working tenderly on his wounds, and apologizing when he caused Glanni any pain.

It was all too gentle, really.

Íþróttaálfurinn finished off with the tape and gave a sigh of relief. “All fixed up, Glæpur.”

Glanni eyed him suspiciously. He wasn’t getting a thank you.

“Why?”

Íþróttaálfurinn lifts his eyebrows, and puts his bloody hand to the back of his neck, almost sheepish. “You jumped out a window hands-first. A two story window.”

“You kicked my door down.”

“Exactly. It was my fault.”

“And now I have to go to jail, correct?”

“……Now, you can sit here and we’ll see if you need to go to a doctor in a few hours. I won’t arrest you when you’re injured.

Glanni shifts uncomfortably, and Íþróttaálfurinn plops beside him, arm-to-arm. Far too close. There’s not much room in this balloon, but he certainly had other space.

His face heats up, and Íþróttaálfurinn looks at him with a grin. “Coat too hot? You’re a bit flushed.”

“Yes, yes.” He goes to remove the coat, wincing as he jostles his hands, and suddenly, Íþróttaálfurinn is removing the coat slowly, sliding it gently over his cut up arms and hands with all the grace of a lover.

Glanni turns redder, and Íþróttaálfurinn sits back- too close, too close- and folds his jacket, placing it with a pat on his lap. He can feel Íþróttaálfurinn‘s hand through the layers, on his thigh, and he swallows as it lingers a bit longer than it should.

Well, they’d had their fun in alleyways, but this was all too gentle. All too new. All too soft and not at all-

Íþróttaálfurinn leans his head on Glanni’s shoulder, breath warming the shoulder of his catsuit.

“Isn’t it hot in the leather? Don’t you own any shirts?”

He stalls. “If you’re that excited to get me out of my clothes, you didn’t need to kick down my door to fuck me.”

Íþróttaálfurinn laughs, and Glanni looks away from him, face burning.

“Glanni.”

He clears his throat, and turns back to Íþróttaálfurinn, brow lowered- only to find lips on his, a gentle press of forehead and a teasing taste of the elf before Íþróttaálfurinn pulls back, all sunshine and grins. “Then don’t go jumping out two story buildings. You could’ve really hurt yourself.”

Glanni sputters, and draws his knees up to his chest. “What do you ca-”

He’s muffled by another kiss, and his face burns scarlet as Íþróttaálfurinn brings their foreheads together, cupping the back of his head.

“Care enough to keep chasing you, eh?”

Glanni throws his jacket at the elf, sputtering loudly. “Shut up! I’m just going to escape after this!”

Íþróttaálfurinn bats the jacket down and gives another deep laugh that has Glanni’s heart fluttering. “It’s the fun part.”

He settles back beside Glanni, who curls into himself, face between his knees.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Maybe we can fix your door and find out more later, if you haven’t run off by then.


End file.
